“Buyan.”

Yan Sanhe suddenly curved her lips in a cold smile, her eyes completely cold and heavy.

“Many things may not be as we think.”

“Then how are they?”

“This isn’t the place to talk. Let’s leave first.”

“Alright.”

The two descended the stairs. The old attendant was already waiting at the bottom. “Miss, are you leaving?”

Yan Sanhe stopped in front of him. “Why did Lord Lu only listen to half the opera today before leaving in such a hurry?”

“This… how would this humble one know?”

“Is it always like this?”

The old attendant smiled apologetically. “Miss doesn’t know—I’m old, my eyes are dim, my ears are deaf, and my memory is poor.”

Yan Sanhe spoke with rare sarcasm. “Someone both deaf and blind should be lying in a coffin waiting to die.”

“Who says otherwise?” The old attendant still smiled cheerfully, not the least bit angry.

Yan Sanhe flicked her sleeve and strode away.

Reaching the outer room, Li Buyan hooked Yan Sanhe’s shoulder. “Is there something off about this Singing Spring Garden too?”

“I don’t know.”

Yan Sanhe answered honestly. There were many strange things at present, but to piece together and restore the truth from these oddities still required several more breaths.

“Find a way to inquire about Singing Spring Garden’s previous identity and the owner’s name.”

“Alright!”

Just as the words fell, urgent hoofbeats approached from far to near.

Li Buyan looked up. “Sanhe, it’s Huangqi.”

Huangqi dismounted and jumped down. “Miss Yan, Miss Yan, how did you end up here? I’ve been looking for you for ages.”

“What is it?”

Huangqi tossed the reins aside and walked to Yan Sanhe’s ear to whisper, “Imperial Consort Li in the palace committed suicide an hour ago.”

Imperial Consort Li?

Who was that?

“She’s the daughter of former Minister of Rites Li Xing. Li Xing was the one who colluded with Yan Ruxian in the spring examination fraud.”

Yan Sanhe’s heart jolted. “Did your master send you to deliver this message?”

What a question.

Huangqi nodded repeatedly.

“Where is he?”

Only now did Huangqi use a normal tone, speaking with exasperation. “He went to the gambling house.”

Yan Sanhe’s heart jolted again.

“Gambling” couldn’t even wait until dark—had something happened?

…

At the gambling house entrance.

Young Master Pei jumped down from his horse and shouted loudly, “Xie Fifty, you bastard! Hanging around gambling dens in broad daylight—sooner or later you’ll gamble away your entire Xie family fortune.”

The wastrel emerged from the gambling house. “Cut the crap and hurry up to gamble a few rounds with this Third Master. After that, I still have work to do.”

“You!”

Young Master Pei’s finger nearly poked Xie Zhifei’s face. “Your gambling addiction is really damn huge.”

The two cursed their way into the gambling house and headed straight for the boat dock in the rear courtyard.

In the cabin, Zhao Yishi sat quietly. Hearing movement, he looked up and frowned slightly.

Xie Zhifei and Pei Xiao instinctively felt something was amiss.

Zhao Yishi rarely showed his emotions openly, nor would he frown at the drop of a hat. Summoning them in broad daylight was even more unusual.

Xie Zhifei walked over and sat down. “What happened?”

Pei Xiao followed. “If it’s about Imperial Consort Li, it’s not worth all this!”

Zhao Yishi glanced at Shen Chong beside him. Shen Chong stepped forward. “Third Master, Young Master Pei, regarding last night’s scholar incident—we’ve found out who was behind it.”

Xie Zhifei: “Who?”

Pei Xiao: “Is it the Prince of Han?”

“It’s the old censor.”

How could it be him?

The shock in Xie Zhifei and Pei Xiao’s hearts was beyond words.

In an instant, countless thoughts surged through their minds, ultimately all coalescing into one question—

Why would he do this?

“Why would he do this?”

Zhao Yishi said coldly, “What’s the purpose? Is it aimed at the Crown Prince?”

Xie Zhifei bit his lip. “Huairen, the old censor has never taken sides. How could he possibly…”

“That square-faced scholar personally confessed that it was the old censor who directed him to do this.”

Zhao Yishi’s gaze was heavy. “I never dreamed that the Prince of Han’s hand had already reached Lu Shi.”

“This…”

“Yan Ruxian watched my father grow up. And I have Yan Xi by my side.”

Zhao Yishi couldn’t help but shudder at the thought. “Round and round, it’s still aimed at us father and son. What deep scheming!”

Pei Xiao shot Xie Zhifei a look: Is it really aimed at the Crown Prince and them?

Xie Zhifei frowned: How the hell would I know?

Only then did Pei Xiao ask, “Does His Majesty know?”

Zhao Yishi: “Not yet.”

Pei Xiao: “What about His Highness the Crown Prince?”

Zhao Yishi shook his head.

Xie Zhifei felt somewhat stifled—the Emperor didn’t know, the Crown Prince didn’t know, yet only he and Mingting were told. Huairen truly treated them as good brothers.

So, should he tell him about Lu Shi’s matter or not?

Tell him. Things had reached this point—there was no use worrying about so much.

Xie Zhifei was about to speak when Mei Niang suddenly walked in. “Young Master Pei, the Bureau of Buddhist Registration is looking for you. You’d better go out and check.”

“No need to look.”

Young Master Pei had already anticipated what it was about. “Most likely they want to bring monks to Imperial Consort Li’s palace to chant sutras and perform rituals.”

Imperial Consort Li had committed suicide. Her soul harbored resentment. If sutras weren’t chanted to deliver her spirit, the resentment would accumulate more and more.

“You go handle it first.”

Zhao Yishi: “Fifty and I will sit briefly and then leave as well.”

“Third Master doesn’t have time to sit either.”

Mei Niang glanced at the Grand Grandson. “People from the Military Command are also looking for him, saying someone stripped off Yan Ruxian’s pants, and crowds are gathering at the city gates again.”

“Which bastard did such a thing?”

Xie Zhifei was so angry he could spit blood. “Huairen, Mingting and I will come find you at the other estate later.”

“Go ahead!”

Xie Zhifei stepped out, then thought better of it and turned back:

“Huairen, the old censor has lived his life as a loner, most likely wanting to leave his name in history. What could the Prince of Han promise him to make him turn traitor?”

Zhao Yishi froze. When he came back to his senses, the cabin was already empty.

Shen Chong stepped forward. “Your Highness, regarding the scholar incident, should we…”

“No need. It would make us look like we’re overreaching. Before long, word will reach His Majesty’s ears.”

“Yes.”

“Shen Chong.”

Zhao Yishi raised his head. “Do you think Third Master’s words just now made sense?”

Shen Chong observed his master’s expression. “This subordinate thinks Third Master’s words have some merit.”

Zhao Yishi rose and walked to the window, standing with his hands behind his back.

After yesterday’s heavy rain, the river water had risen slightly but was very muddy, not clear at all.

Just like the recent political situation—even he, who’d grown up in the palace, couldn’t see it clearly.

“If Lu Shi isn’t coming after us, then who would he be going after?”

Though these words were spoken to himself, Shen Chong heard them clearly, and his chest couldn’t help feeling somewhat stifled.

Just then, a guard rushed in and whispered in Shen Chong’s ear.

After listening, Shen Chong’s expression changed several times. Not daring to delay for a moment, he walked behind Zhao Yishi.

“Your Highness, word just came from the palace—His Majesty has fallen ill.”

Zhao Yishi whipped around sharply.

“How could he suddenly fall ill?”